


Maintenance

by ahimsabitches



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Junkrat is trans, NO BOBA????, Trucker junkers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:33:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7708165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahimsabitches/pseuds/ahimsabitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junkrat works on his rig, and Mako fetches drinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maintenance

Mako eased down beside Jamie’s legs, the only parts of him visible from under the great shining nose of the rig.

“They didn’t have boba,” he said, placing Jamie’s bottle of milk tea–the closest he could find– beside the half of him he could see. 

“ _Philistines,_ I tell ya,” Jamie barked. His legs jerked and Mako heard a hollow _BONG._ “ _Crikey!_ Fuckin’ drongo! Get _in_ there like I _told ya!”_

Mako leaned back against the rig’s bull nose and smelled the asphalt and sipped his drink. An orange-and-chrome hand wiggled out from under the rig like a drunken spider and Mako nudged the bottle into its path. Bottle and hand disappeared.

“What is this watered-down dog piss I’m drinkin, mate?”

“I told you, they didn’t have boba. This is Alabama, Jamie. The culture here is… _different._ ”

Jamie made an inarticulate noise of disgust, which, upon Mako’s glance, looked amusingly like it came from the rig itself, and the bottle shot out from under the rig, skipping across the blacktop like a flat stone across water. Mako sipped his drink thoughtfully.

“Gimme summa yours,” the rig said in Jamie’s voice, then clanked.

“Mm-mm. You won’t like it. It’s Monster.”

_Tink. Crrk. Clank-tink._

“I dunno how you drink that stuff, mate. It’s horrible for ya.” Jamie’s legs scooted out a little, his loose shirt rucking up around his ribs.

“Gotta keep up with you somehow,” Mako said, admiring the tense and flex of the muscles around Jamie's hips. 

_Rrr-rrrrrrk. Clonk-tink. Clonk clonk._ Jamie’s quad flexed, relaxed. “Nobody can keep up with me, mate. I’m unkeepupable.” He giggled.

Mako glanced across the vast parking lot. It was an off hour. Most haulers wouldn’t be rolling in until at least six. Jamie would be shielded from idle eyes by Mako’s bulky frame anyway; to the other side of them was only the manicured forest that appears when people overzealously topple trees, then, as if realizing they’d gone a little overboard, try like furtive children to put things back the way they were.

With a deft flick of thumb and pointer finger, Mako unbuttoned and unzipped Jamie’s cutoff trousers and slid a hand down to the warmth between his legs. Jamie coughed a surprised laugh, legs jerking upward, then sighed and relaxed. 

“Mmmmm, better than boba, mate,” Jamie purred as Mako’s fingers worked.

“Yeah?” Mako asked, the compliment filling him with fluttering warmth.

“Yeah. Almost.”

Mako rolled his eyes behind his aviators and chuckled, a deep purring sound that rippled up from his belly.


End file.
